Behind Closed Doors
by derpette-Waffle
Summary: People see what they want to see. Everyone sees him as this great guy: immensely talented and compassionate, could never do any wrong; he's incredibly handsome and could so easily pass for straight if not for the "pretty little twink" on his arm; a wonderful person who could never hurt a fly. I know better, and had to learn the hard way. ((Special message after each chapter!))
1. Prologue

_What if Blaine had never told Kurt he cheated, and the break-up had never happened? What if Blaine had only escalated in his narcissism and need for control?_

**WARNING:** Not remotely Blaine-friendly. Serious Angst. Relationship Abuse. Eventual MPreg.

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People see what they want to see. Everyone sees him as this great guy: immensely talented and compassionate, could never do any wrong; he's incredibly handsome and could so easily pass for straight if not for the "pretty little twink" on his arm; a wonderful person who could never hurt a fly. I know better, and had to learn the hard way.

It started out simple enough, back in high school. I wasn't sexy enough, so, as uncomfortable as I was about it, I let Blaine teach me to be sexy. He still fondly remembers how ridiculous I looked trying on my own, and I laugh it off like the "gas pains" comment didn't hurt. And when he briefly liked Rachel -he's always loved making me jealous. He says I'm "cute when desperate." It's a game, and I'm the playpiece.

Things were better for a while once we were really together. He'd go out of his way to make me feel special and loved, something I wasn't entirely used to. The first (and second) kiss was amazing, the performance in the McKinley courtyard was wonderful, and when he told me he loved me... I realized we were set to be together for a long, long time.

When Blaine transferred to McKinley, he made my comfort zone his own, and his true colors started to show.

Blaine always loved control. He got his fill leading the Warblers back at Dalton, and tried to transition that to the New Directions. When that didn't happen, when Finn wouldn't let it happen, he had to get his fix otherwise.

Blaine had sent me a cute text to meet him at Lima Bean. I got dressed nice for him, and I show up, all happy, and what do I see? He's with another guy. I go over and he acts all surprised that I came, and though I was upset that he baited me like that, I was too focused on the smirky little meerkat sitting with my boyfriend.

I forgave him for that without discussing it, remembering "cute when desperate."

And then it got worse. Like, bad. When he was drunk, and pulled me into the car. His hands were all over me, and even though I was still completely clothed, I really felt violated. I told him -begged him- to stop, to let me go. He made it seem all special and romantic, but he had spent half the night dancing with the meerkat and I just couldn't let that go yet, not after only maybe two hours. He got pissed and stormed off, yelling at me, making me feel awful for not putting out in the car.

I was the one to do the real apologizing. I always was, because it was always my fault, according to him. We went back to his place, and lost our virginities to each other, and for that night, everything was good.

By the time Chandler came along, Blaine had already broken me down. But Chandler, he made me feel special like Blaine used to. But that was a problem, because although Blaine was allowed to do that and more with the Meerkat, it was wrong when I did it. He humiliated me in front of the glee club, and turned my friends against me. He wanted to isolate me and make me turn to him for support, and he succeeded. I cut things off with Chandler and Blaine took me back.

When I first moved to New York, everything was great. But after a month or so, Blaine's pleasant phone calls turned sour and more frequent. He said I wasn't around enough, that I should be there with him, supporting him. I felt horrible, even though he was the one who encouraged me to go to New York in the first place. He'd call three times a day, and scream at me if I missed the last call.

I cried myself to sleep more than once that year.

And then Blaine joined me in New York, and, well... things got worse from there...


	2. Chapter 1

**January 30th, 2014**

"Kurt, auditions start in a half hour and Cummins does not like to be kept waiting!"

I was getting ready as quickly as I could, but I had to shower after Blaine did so I was falling behind. I didn't have time to dry my hair properly, which would sit at the back of my mind the whole day, but putting some clothes on on time was more important at the moment. I pulled an undershirt on over my damp head, followed by a loose woolen sweater. My jeans were acid-washed gray, and I had thick socks and boots on my feet. It wasn't close o my most fashionable outfit, but it would be nice and warm in the zero-degree weather.

I played with my hair a bit, trying to get it somewhat styled before leaving the apartment, but it just flopped wet in my face. Sure we'd be in Blaine's car the whole way there, but my hair would likely freeze between the front door and the garage, and wherever we parked and the NYADA auditorium door. I cringed a bit at the thought of icy tips.

"Kurt I swear if you're not out here in two minutes you'll be walking to the school..."

I reacted immediately to Blaine's call, heading out, all dressed and ready, into the living room. I hoped he wouldn't notice my hair.

He didn't; he seemed to focused on my outfit, and if the mild look of disgust was anything to go by, he didn't approve. "You realize how frumpy you look, right?"

It wasn't the sweater that was frumpy, it was _me_. I bowed my head shyly, but he took my chin and picked my head up, so that I had to look him in the eye.

"Go change. Now." His voice was soft but edged with the unsavory twinge I was used to. I nodded sharply and headed back into our room. I could hear him sigh loudly in frustration just before I closed the door behind me.

I picked another sweater, slimmer though not quite as warm. He hadn't said anything about the pants, but these wouldn't go with this new sweater, so I changed into torn dark jeans. I kept the boots and black, gold-lined flower brooch. I touched up my hair a bit again, and, deeming my appearance adequate enough, I headed back out.

Blaine was nowhere to be found in the apartment. I grabbed my coat and ran out and hoped to catch him before he drove off, but, panting and cold, realized the car was already gone.

I had no money for a cab: Blaine kept all the money we earned on him. I had my MetroCard, but getting to NYADA involved walking four blocks to the nearest station, and then another five to the school. And it was so, so cold out.

I could feel myself getting sick by the time I got on the subway. I kept to myself like all the other passengers, and was lucky enough to have gloves on, so I wouldn't catch any germs from the rail. I was already feeling a cough coming on -I was probably harboring a cold before I left- and couldn't afford even more exposure. My hair was frozen down to the roots, and it wasn't warm enough in the subway to melt. My scalp was ice cold and dreadfully uncomfortable, and even though it was still cold in here, I dreaded getting off.

When I was two blocks away, my legs and nose and ears were numb. I should've kept those other jeans on, because even if they were no thicker, they didn't expose my legs either. When I was just one block away, my eyes were stinging and my throat was burning with the cold air. I trudged on, though: I was so close. When I reached the school, I knew I was home free. I went into the main building, unable to keep up walking in the cold to the auditorium entrance outside.

I got into the enormous room when Bianca DiOriel was singing "Popular." She was a great singer, but her voice was too much an alto for Glinda. I silently wished her luck, though, and skimmed the aisles for my boyfriend.

There was no empty seat next to Blaine. He was sitting with his cronies Michael and Jenna. I frowned slightly and crossed to Michael's side of the row. Jenna had a huge crush on Blaine -which, as something Blaine was used to, he quietly permitted- but I knew Michael, and he was a reasonable guy and let me take his seat.

Michael let me in easily, but Blaine didn't look too happy about my arrival -I was horribly late, after all. I sat down, eyes downcast.

"Where were you? You know this started an hour ago, right?"

Yes, I knew very well, but there was nothing to be done about it now. "I'm sorry," I replied softly. We shouldn't have been talking while Bianca -no, it was Clara now- was singing, anyway.

Still feeling ill, I laid my head on Blaine's shoulder. He leaned away a bit, probably because he didn't like my frosted hair on his cheek, but he didn't push me away. I tried to focus on warming my throat. I should've picked up a coffee or cocoa on the way, but I hadn't thought to.

"Y'know," Blaine whispered to me. I could almost feel his smirk, and I listened intently. "I'm thinking about auditioning for the Wizard."

That was the part I had wanted. The Wizard's eccentricity and lack of established masculinity made him the only part to really give me hope for, and he had some, excuse my pun, "Wonderful" songs. I looked up at him. His face looked so set, but there was a glint in his eyes. My face went lax and I just nodded. I had no real hope for the role now, but I would give my all nonetheless.

"Kurt Hummel?"

I hopped up, forcing myself to feel well and confident, and headed to the stage. Professors Cummins and Ashton were watching to judge, as was Blaine.

"I'll be auditioning for the Wizard..." I could feel Blaine's eyes on me, burning. I almost missed the music starting, but noticed soon enough to hit my cue.

_I never asked for this or planned it in advance_  
_I was merely blown here by the winds of chance_  
_I never saw myself as a Solomon, or Socrates_  
_I knew what I was, one of your dime a dozen mediocrities_

It went pretty well for the next few bars, but soon enough my voice cracked and I knocked myself down more than a few pegs. But like any performer, I played through it and kept singing.

Another few bars, and I was surprised the music hadn't stopped by now. I picked myself back up after my first fall, but then my voice was lost entirely. I coughed a few times, and someone stopped the track.

"I'm sorry-.. I'm sorry. I-"

Professor Ashton held up her hand to stop my apologizing. "Kurt. I'll speak for Professor Cummins and myself when I say we know your voice inside and out. You're done, sweetie, thank you."

I nodded and thanked them, and hurried off stage. I knew Professor Cummins and Professor Ashton well. I had come to both of them out of class time for extra help and tips. They knew me and I knew them, and hopefully they would know that this was just a fluke.

Blaine was tutting as I came back, shaking his head at me. "Shouldn't have let that happen, babe." He pulled me to him as I sat down, but his attention was back on whoever was auditioning now. I nodded solemnly and laid my head back on his shoulder. He didn't pull away.

"Blaine Anderson?"

Blaine smiled and sprung to his feet. My head fell a bit before I caught myself and watched, putting all my attention into my boyfriend.

"I'm here for the role of the Wizard."

I saw the professors look to each other, puzzled, as the music started.

_I am a sentimental man who always longed to be a father_  
_That's why I do the best I can to treat each citizen of Oz a son or daughter_  
_So Elphaba I'd like to raise you high_  
_Cuz I think everyone deserves a chance to-_

"I'll stop you there, Mr. Anderson." Professor Cummins held his hand up to stop the music, and Blaine stopped singing a moment later. He looked so surprised, and a little angry that he'd been cut off.

"Mr. Anderson, you signed the audition sheet for the role of Fiyero," Professor Ashton noted, eyes on the paper in front of her. I had to imagine it was the signup sheet from the student lounge.

"Yes, but I made a last minute change," Blaine nodded. "Can we continue?"

Neither acknowledged his request. "How last minute?" Professor Cummins asked, a strange tone to his voice.

"A few minutes ago." Blaine laughed harshly. "I thought it over and realized all the rehearsal time required for Fiyero, and how needy Kurt gets."

Both seemed to think about it for a minute, and spoke in hushed tones. Professor Cummins turned back to Blaine. "You're dismissed, Mr. Anderson."

Blaine forced a grateful smile and left the stage. His fists were clenched and he dropped the smile the moment he passed the judges. He didn't sit back next to me, just left the auditorium. I hopped up and followed him out; after all, I wasn't obligated to stay for anyone else.

I almost caught him before he drove off.

When I got home, coughing hard as I came through the door, Blaine was in the kitchen, hands braced on the counter and facing away. I approached cautiously.

"I can't believe you."

I jumped when he spoke. I hadn't expected it. "W-What are you talking about?" I always hated when I stutter. I was surprised Blaine didn't say anything about it.

He turned on me. His eyes were dark.

"I can't believe you let me audition for the Wizard when I was clearly meant to be Fiyero. The judges said so themselves: they had expected my audition to be for the hero, not for the villain. They were probably all set to give me the role then and there but then you encouraged me to go for a character that's clearly below me. And sure, I'll get this part, but they're obviously disappointed. The whole _school_ will be disappointed, and some talentless loser will probably be playing Fiyero in my place. And guess who's fault that is?"

_Mine_, I thought, but didn't say. He huffed loudly. I lowered my head, and kept my face down even when he stormed toward me. He grabbed me by the collar and I stayed silent, just staring into his burning eyes.

He looked vicious. He looked like he would hurt me. I braced for impact.

Instead, he just let me go, and I fell to the floor. I laid there for a moment before he yanked me to my feet.

He made me look him in the eye again. There was a sickly sweet smile on his face, and he stroked my hair back.

"For your sake they'll see the part I deserve," he promised.

**February 10th, 2014**

Clara mentioned that morning in dance class that the cast would be posted at three. Needless to say word got around.

I wouldn't have been surprised to find myself cast as an understudy, but I checked the first choice cast nonetheless. When my eyes landed on it -"The Wizard of Oz, Kurt Hummel"- my heart soared like it hadn't in a long time. This would be my first significant role ever in a production anywhere.

I fought my way back out of the mob to head to Professor Ashton's classroom. I knew she had to have put in a good word for me.

I thanked her. She thanked me, and when I asked why, she noted how maturely I'd handled my admittedly flawed audition. She said she knew my voice never cracked like that and that I was clearly sick, and she and Professor Cummins had taken that into account. She also said she looked forward to working with me, and I said the same to her. We both smiled and I headed to my next class.

"UNDERSTUDY!"

I was making dinner when Blaine came in. He seemed heavily intoxicated, and I flinched, blood running cold. I timidly headed out into the living room to greet him.

His glare was soul-burning. "You let this happen. You _made_ this happen. I hope you're happy that you got the damn part while I have to live with the shame you've cast upon me."

I was shaking and just prayed he didn't notice. "W-What would you like me to do, Blaine?" Damn it. I chanced a glance at him.

He wiped his mouth of spittle. "Drop the part. Drop it. I'll be the damn Wizard and salvage whatever reputation I can. I'm highly regarded at NYADA, Kurt. You know I deserve this."

He always got like this when he was drunk. He might say he regrets what he said later, but I knew this was how he really felt even when sober. I dropped my eyes back to the floor. "Will... Will that make you happy, Blaine?"

"Yes." There was no hesitation, no moment for his inebriated mind to consider.

And as always, I would respect his wishes. He deserved a part more than I ever would, anyway. "I... Alright. I'll tell Professor Cummins and Professor Ashton in the morning."

He smiled a crooked smile and stumbled toward me, kissing me sloppily. He tasted of cheap beer.

"Good boy," he smirked against my lips. "Now let me give my good boy a little reward for being so faithful."

Reward, my ass.

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**A/N:** Ahh, so there's Chapter One! I hope I was able to keep the atmosphere and raw, powerful emotion, as one of my lovely reviewers noted on the prologue! :) Please read and review and I'll have the next chapter up soon! - _xx Litsy Kalyptica_


	3. Chapter 2

**May 13th, 2014**

It might have been a performing arts school, and I may have taken some college courses at McKinley, but I still had to get my core classes in to get any kind of real degree. I was taking Shakespearean Works, Calculus, and Macroeconomics online, and my finals were due in three days. I was working my ass off on an essay (specifically "symbolism in Hamlet"), in my calculus prep book, and reading up on the latest states of foreign economies. It was hard and difficult to manage, but I knew Id benefit in the end once I aced all my finals. But for now, it was study time.

I was in the living room, lounging with by books and laptop scattered about, munching on a rice cake with peanut butter -it was the only snack Blaine allowed me to have, noting my ultra skinny jeans wouldn't fit me if I was "gorging on junk food" all the time. And it did work: I felt great. Hungry -like, all the time- but great.

I was mid-sentence and halfway through my essay -I had finished my math work and read up on foreign policy- when Blaine came in the room. I immediately felt his presence, and turned away for a moment to look at him. He was pulling on a shirt and was freshly showered, his damp curls dripping. He looked good, and suddenly I was super self-conscious again. Rice cakes would never make me look like he did, and he always remembered to remind me of that.

"Get dressed," Blaine ordered, not look up from fastening the cuffs of his dress jacket. "Try to make yourself presentable, you're coming with me to my dress rehearsal tonight."

I shifted a bit on the couch, but didn't get up. School took up my days, work took my evenings -I worked at a bakery across the street from the school, alongside Blaine before rehearsals started, and I had to convince Blaine to be okay with me still working there- and I never got out until seven at least. Today was my day off from classes and work, and I was taking it to study all day, since I had no weekends left before my finals were due. "Blaine, I need to stud-"

"Are you seriously arguing with me right now?" Blaine interrupted, turning to me, eyes dark. "Look, I'm already stressed enough about having to start performing in a few days, I don't need to listen to your whining on top of that." His voice was stern and hard. "Now, get your fat ass up off the couch and go change into something decent. If I don't approve, you'll go change, and we'll go on like that until you get it right."

I nodded, getting to my feet and hurrying off to our room. I knew he was serious about making me get dressed over and over again. I picked out a white dress shirt, and dark jacket and pants to match, and black boots. I headed out to Blaine, turning around as he looked me over.

"Stop," he commanded when I was turned away from him. I stopped and stood there. I could feel his smirk as I heard him approach me from behind. He laughed softly to himself and all of a sudden hands were groping my ass through the pants.

"Now that's what I'm talking about," he grinned into my ear as he pulled at my backside.

I was conditioned not to react. I was used to this behavior from my boyfriend, ever since we first had sex. He'd become more bold with me, showing his true sexual nature. He got pushy sometimes, and touch me without telling me first. I normally didn't mind so much, or forced myself not to mind, and only actually pulled away when he grabbed me like that in public. Now, though, I would just laugh it off. "Okay, now, Mr. Wizard, we better be off to your dress rehearsal."

He kissed my neck wetly and pulled back to let me turn back around. He took my hand and led me to the front door. He leaned in to whisper to me. "I'm gonna ravage you so hard tonight."

I wanted to protest, tell him that I really needed to study and work on my final essay, but I didn't bother. I knew it wouldn't get me anywhere. Blaine Anderson always got what he wanted.

I didn't dare bring my laptop to the rehearsal. Even if Blaine was onstage and was supposed to be focusing on the performance, he would certainly catch me out of the corner of his eye and be offended that I would be doing schoolwork when I should be watching him. So I just watched. He did amazing. His performance, however brief, was spot on. The directors had no comments to give him during the scenes, and it was then that I really believed just how suited he was for the stage. I always knew Blaine could sing, but he could perform, too. He did deserve it more than I did...

After the show, Blaine came up to where I was seated and grabbed my hand. "Come on, let's go get something to eat."

I was tired, and still had studying to do, but I knew I couldn't say anything about it. Blaine didn't like when I said anything against his plans. I just nodded silently and he pulled me to my feet. It was a warm night in late spring.

"We should jog there. You could use the exercise."

I just nodded.

We ran half a block before making a right, then three more blocks and a left. It wasn't comfortable running in these jeans, but I was a pretty good runner for as much as Blaine said otherwise. Blaine taunted me when I fell even just a bit behind, and scolded me when I got ahead -I think it was more work just trying to jog at the exact same speed as him than it was actually running. From that left we jogged four blocks, made another left, jogged another two, and made a right.

Blaine picked up the pace, and so did I. He slowed down suddenly, and I skidded to a stop, but fell over, flat on my face. My hands were fast enough to break my fall and my cheek hit the pavement.

"You alright, babe?" Blaine laughed as he came up beside me, as if it was funny, and maybe it was to him. His sense of humor was always a little dark. I didn't answer, just turned onto my back, avoiding people walking by, hissing at the pain in my cheek. I felt blood. It felt like a skid mark. Blaine put his foot on my chest, pressing down a bit. "I asked if you're okay."

His tone was light but I was still careful. I knew he was serious and I had to answer. "My cheek hurts." It sounded pathetic, but it was the truth. Blaine smirked and reached out a hand to help me up. I took it and he yanked me to my feet. I touched my cheek; it stung, bad. "Can we just go home? I'll make dinner, whatever you want."

"Don't be a baby, it's just a scratch. Let's go eat and then we can go home so I can get you out of those sexy jeans of yours."

I nodded. It was all I could do.

We didn't get home until after ten, and I didn't sleep until midnight. My finals were due at seven in the morning, but I fell asleep on my computer.

In the morning, I went to get rid of all the letters my sleepy head had put into my essay, and tried to submit. But it was already 7:30. Submissions were closed.

"You should've worked quicker, harder."

I failed the courses, and would have to take them again.

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**A/N:** I'm happy to have updated so quickly, and even happier to let you guys know that I have the rest of the story planned -all 19 other chapters! Please review, it encourages me to work on it! Thank you all for bearing with me this far! - _xx Litsy Kalyptica_


	4. Chapter 3

**A/N:** To reviewer Anna, though I doubt you're reading this chapter - I wish you had an account so I could've replied to your comment directly. I understand that it's a little harshly written, and I do appreciate your honesty, I really do. I know that Blaine's abuse would be more subtle, which I tried, and subtle abuse is very difficult to write, especially from the abused party's point of view since they believe what their abuser is saying. Blaine's abuse is subtle in canon -whether or not reaers will admit that it's abuse, you all must acknowledge that Kurt hasn't been the same strong character he was before dating Blaine, as noted in the prologue- but to go with the subtle abuse and at the same time tell the story through Kurt, with him believing it, I worried that the abuse would not get across. And the whole thing with abuse is that it only escalates, and this has been going on for over a year at this point. I was told in two comments that the emotion in the voice of the story is powerful, and as a writer, that is more my goal than being completely canon with the character. I hope you're seeing this, and were able to overlook the ooc-ness, but if not I understand completely. Thank you for your review regardless!

Anyway, on with the story!

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**May 17th, 2014**

I tried not to think too much about how I had flunked all three courses. I probably could've done better through the year -economics bores me to sleep, as an artistic person I always detested math, and despite my propensity for theatre and my personal verbal eloquence (I like to believe I'm very articulate, though apparently "no" doesn't mean what it used to), Shakespeare was never my strong suit- but it wasn't like I didn't try, either. I did all the assignments and studied hard whenever I got the chance, but between school, work, and Blaine, the chance rarely came.

I wanted to think that with school almost over I would have more time to work on a project I'd been throwing around in my head for a while now. I'd had to face facts a while ago that, as many of us as there were to take the spots, there weren't very many opportunities for "transparent gays" like me to make a big break on Broadway (I think, but am not sure, that a customer at the bakery called me that.) It's sort of like a Hunger Games tournament, but more musical. So I figured, rather than let myself be disappointed by something I have no control over, I could take control and write my own part.

But I had nothing to write, which was just as well since I still had no time to write about it.

I was mulling over the idea that maybe my story was worth writing, but that train of thought was cut off when I felt Blaine shift beside me. He was just waking up at almost nine, and the NYADA production of Wicked opens tonight, but he expressed not wanting to be awake until at least ten.

He groaned my name, still half asleep, which meant he wanted me to turn over to face him and move in closer -which I did. He draped an arm around my waist and pulled our naked bodies flush together. I hissed quietly, and he opened his eyes. He smiled at me, and I smiled back, a smoldering little lip twitch compared to his bright grin. He moved the arm from my waist to cup my cheek, the pad of his thumb brushing over where I had skinned it a few days earlier. It stung, but not terribly.

"You ready for tonight?" I asked quietly, still tired myself after last night and knowing how late I'd be out tonight.

"I think so. Everyone else in the show finally got their acts together, so we should be able to put on a really great performance!" He kissed my forehead, really tender. "I wish you could be in the show with me. Wouldn't that have been great?"

I swallowed the sour taste in my mouth. "Yeah, I would've loved that."

"Me too." He touched my cheek again. "But we'll make the most of what we've got, right? You'll be at all my shows-"

"I'll try."

He looked bewildered, like he didn't know or couldn't believe I had things to do in the evenings. "What? What do you mean, where else would you be?"

"Well, I have work." He seemed genuinely upset about it, so I tried to explain gently. "I'll take off as many nights as I can, and try to move my hours once classes are over, or work weekends. I'll try to be at all your shows, Blaine, I really will. I just can't guarantee anything."

He still seemed to not like the idea very much, and broke eye contact, lazily playing with my bed-mussed hair. "No, it's fine..." he replied softly, trailing off. I felt horrible, but I was going to do all I could to go to his shows without losing my job. I had my part of the rent to pay and Blaine was lucky enough to have a full scholarship and not need one (yeah, he quit for rehearsals.)

"I..." I didn't want to promise anything that I couldn't guarantee would be able to be accomplished.

"You'll what?" He looked lost but hopeful, face still sad but eyes wide. "You'll quit? You'll quit your job, and for me?"

He was smiling so brightly that I couldn't bring myself to say no. He hugged me tight -I was sore but content, and more worried about what to do after quitting my job since apparently that's what I was doing.

Blaine pulled back after a moment and kissed me quickly, sweetly, before pulling back entirely. "You're too much, you know that? Quitting your job, just to come to all my shows. You're too sweet." He kissed me again, and I forced a little smile against his lips. "Now come on, let's get up and start getting ready."

He sat up and stood, still completely naked, and started to get ready. I sat up too, rubbing my eyes and tugging at the blankets to cover my body. No matter how hot it would get in the apartment, I needed a blanket when I slept. It was a comfort thing, sort of like how Blaine needs me in his arms in order for him to sleep. Both were of about equal convenience. "Why are we getting ready now? We don't have to be there for the show until six..."

"Well, we should get there early, and I was thinking we could go out for lunch first. You're such a good boyfriend, I figured I'd reward you for your devotion." He beamed at me as he pulled a shirt and pants on. No underwear.

I nodded. Blaine seemed to like rewarding me for good behavior, and wasn't afraid to tell me when I did wrong. He was a good boyfriend; a very good boyfriend, and I was lucky to have him.

Blaine took me to lunch at the bakery I worked at. We ate some bagels -Blaine had a ham and cheese sandwich on a plain bagel, I had vegetable cream cheese on onion- and I tried to hightail out of there. But before I could bolt out the door, Blaine laid a heavy hand on my shoulder, keeping me put. "Come on, babe, you told me you'd quit. Well, here's your chance."

I swallowed hard. I had never exactly said that I would quit, but Blaine was already so excited for it and I didn't want to disappoint him. I took the plunge.

We went right from the bakery to NYADA -it was across the street, after all- even though we didn't have to be there for about six hours. Blaine was very chipper, waiting for the show, so we played a bit of hide-and-seek on the stage set and tag in the seats. It was a lot of fun, actually, fun like we hadn't seemed to have in a while. I think for those few hours, we were both happy.

Opening night was flawless on everyone's part. Rachel made a wonderful Elphaba (I forgot to mention that, didn't I?), Clara a great Glinda alongside her. I didn't recognize whoever was playing Fiyero -probably an upperclassman. Bianca was an adequate Madame Morrible (Bianca is great, but I might have cast someone else), and naturally Blaine gave an effortlessly impeccable performance as the Wizard. At the end of the show I decided to time the standing ovation: six minutes! I was so proud of all of them, especially of Blaine.

Blaine brought me to the cast party at Hard Rock Cafe, just like he promised he would. It was already ten by the time we got there, and I was oddly tired, but I just smiled and waved to people I knew. I was here for Blaine, and he deserved to enjoy his night.

"Nice bit of arm candy, Anderson," someone commented. I think he was a stagehand, since I didn't see him in the show.

I hoped Blaine would say something, but he just laughed softly. I rolled my eyes.

As the night progressed, that would prove to not be the only comment made about me. I lost Blaine at one point when he went off to talk to come friends, leaving me at the table. There was a group behind me and I could hear their conversation. For the most part, what they were talking about wasn't interesting to me: mostly gossip going around the school and how relieved they were to have opening night out of the way, how excited they were to do more shows and how difficult striking the set was gonna be. I just sat there with my shirley temple and zoned them out.

That is, until my name was mentioned.

"Hummel auditioned to be the Wizard, too." - "And why didn't he get it?" - "Cummins and Ashton didn't like him: they said Blaine was ten times better and more suited to the role." - "Well, they're smart." - "Hummel would've dragged the whole cast down." - "Yeah, I mean, he cares and his intentions are good, but he's not quite NYADA material." - "I don't even know how he got in." - "I heard he pitched a fit when Blaine got the role instead of him." - "Heard Blaine was scared for his safety, that maybe Kurt would try to sabotage him and make him unable to perform." - "He's a psycho little queer, isn't he?"

I couldn't listen any more. I got up -rather loudly, I'm not sure if they noticed me- and went to go find Blaine.

He was at the bar with Rachel, talking cheerfully, sipping a Coke. I pushed my way through the crowd and almost fell into him.

"Woah, babe, watch it!" he scolded, sounding like he was half joking but I couldn't be too sure.

"I wanna go home. Now." I wasn't usually so vocal -well, I used to be.

"But we're having a great time!" Blaine grinned, holding up his drink as if to toast the other partygoers.

"I'm sorry, but I need to go."

"Are you on your period or something?" Blaine laughed. Someone nearby must've heard, and laughed with him. I blushed furiously and shook my head.

"Come on, this isn't funny. Some of your friends are saying some really rude things -lies, in fact- about me, and I wanna leave. I need to leave."

Blaine sighed, as if I'd asked him to carry me back to the apartment. "I'll go talk to them." He gave me a small reassuring smile, and, reluctantly, I nodded.

An hour later, I was still at the bar. Rachel had gone back to the apartment long ago and I didn't really know anyone. Again, between school and work and Blaine, I didn't have time to make many friends, either. Well, now that it was summer and I had quit my job, now only one of them should continue to take up my time.

I heard laughing across the restaurant -Blaine's laughter, distinctly.

I sighed and bit my lip. He was having a good time, possibly with those who had secretly mocked and belittled me, and I would just be here, waiting for my knight in shining armor to return.

* * *

**A/N:** I think it was a bit more subtle in this chapter, nothing too direct and now we actually see the whole "sugary-sweetness" that will usually follow a more difficult day. Please review (please!) and I'll have the next chapter up shortly! - _xx Litsy Kalyptica_


	5. Chapter 4

**A/N:** I wasn't sure I was gonna write anything today. I don't know what to, I've never really had to deal with death. I don't know how the Glee writers are going to handle this as far as Finn being gone, but whatever they do, please respect it. The cast and crew are grieving, and they have the right to do so in any way they need to. The writers are grieving too, and now they need to figure out what to do about his character in a way that's as painless as possible for everyone involved.

This here is my way to handle it, and even if you don't agree it's the best way, I'm putting my damndest into it.

* * *

**July 13th, 2014**

Have you ever had something you cared about yanked away from you, or come close enough to hurt you? It had seemed in recent years to happen all too often for me, mostly in the form of failed auditions. It was selfish and pathetic to pity myself instead of just being happy for those who got happiness, but when something you care about is within your reach but escapes your grasp, sometimes it's difficult to live with it.

It's amazing how quickly things can just go entirely wrong. One moment you're having a great time -maybe the best day of your life- and one little thing can send it all spiraling downward.

_And nobody in all of Oz_  
_No wizard that there is or was_  
_Is ever gonna bring me down...!_

There was an uproar of applause. I myself gave a standing ovation, even knowing that the show was only halfway over. After being such a fan for so many years, and seeing it then for the first time, I couldn't stay seated or keep the tears out of my eyes. Sure, this Elphaba was no Idina Menzel, but she was still magnificent and deserves every round of applause.

The stage lights went out, and the house lights came up. The performance would resume for Act II in about fifteen minutes, so I told Blaine and Rachel we needed to be back in ten. There was no way I was about to miss a single second. Rachel, nearly as excited about all this as I was, enthusiastically agreed.

Blaine, who had come less to see the show than to keep an eye on me -"make sure I'm safe"- just laughed and nodded. "Okay, but I really have to go to the bathroom. Good thing there's never a line for the men's room."

While Blaine used the facilities, Rachel and I headed to the merchandise kiosk, and in true fanatic fashion, we near bought out the whole inventory. We looked like tourists rather than actual city dwellers, but I guess that's what happens when you come from a small town to the metropolitan system.

Blaine caught up with us just as everyone was settling back into their seats. I took my phone out to turn it back off for the second half of the show when my screen lit up. Dad was calling me, so I had to answer, but the lights were fading out again.

"Dad, now's not a good time."

"I need to talk to you. It's important." He sounded exhausted, but I really couldn't talk right now.

"Okay, I'll call you back, bye." I hung up before he could say anything else, and turned my phone off to enjoy the rest of the performance uninterrupted.

We didn't head straight back to the apartment afterward. We went to get something to eat -high on life, I binged on McDonald's chicken nuggets- and walked around the city for a little while. We were in the tourist area anyway, so we could browse safely in the dark.

It wasn't until we got back home that I remembered that Dad had called and needed to talk about something important, and that I had promised to call him back. Blaine was already asleep -adorably so- and Rachel was in the shower, so whatever conversation that needed to be had could be done privately. For good measure, I stepped out onto the fire escape: it was a cool, calm night, and the sounds of traffic down below were surprisingly soothing for me. Leaning back against the stairs, I dialled the number.

At first, no one answered. Concerned, I tried again.

"Kurt?"

"Hey Dad," I smiled. "Sorry I cut you off earlier, I was seeing Wicked with Blaine and Rachel and intermission was ending."

"And you just got out now? Dammit, Kurt, it's almost ten o'clock."

I frowned: he never really got upset with me, especially not over something as trivial as a belated phone call. "I'm sorry...?" I didn't really know what to say.

I heard a heavy sigh on the other side of the line. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap at you..."

Now I was really worried. What had Dad so on edge? What was he so desperate to talk to me about? I knew then that something had to be really wrong.

I stood up, leaning on one of the support poles, staring down at the streets below. The people looked like ants from up here, and the cars little ant buggies. "Dad... what's going on?"

There was a long silence and what sounded like sniffling. I waited patiently for an answer.

"Your brother's dead."

The last time I was in Lima, I had an allergic reaction to peanuts. Finn had been roped into making brownies for his little cousin Haley's school bake sale. He was no baker, so I agreed to help out. It was just the two of us there, and it was kind of more a brother bonding exercise than a chore. We made two batches: one with nuts, and one without, and we kept them separate. The nuts were baked inside the sweets, and Finn, always a bit of an innocent klutz, got the two batches mixed up, mislabeled, but neither of us knew that until I tried one that I thought was sans peanuts.

He knew that I was allergic, but I don't think he was prepared to come back into the room, ready to drive with me to take the brownies to his aunt's house, to see me on the floor, trying to breathe and ultimately failing. Through blurred vision I saw the panic on his face as he raced out of the room. For a moment I actually considered he was just gonna leave me there, I knew he wouldn't, but lying there, chest constricting, it did cross my mind.

I was struggling not to black out. I knew full well that if I lost consciousness, I would likely not wake up. My whole body hurt, every square-inch on fire, but through the pounding in my ears I heard a voice -Finn's voice- around the corner.

"Yeah... Yeah, he's on the floor..."

He came back to the kitchen, phone to his ear and... epi-pen in hand. I didn't know who he was talking to, but he knelt down next to me, phone sandwiched between his shoulder and his head. He kept talking as he propped me up against him. I was wearing shorts, so Finn stuck the needle right into my thigh. I was barely with it anymore, and Finn was just hanging up.

"Kurt- Kurt, stay awake."

He seemed to be trying to comfort me but give me space at the same time. The epinephren was already taking effect, and breathing was becoming easier, but though I was gasping for air, oxygen wasn't getting in quick enough and I felt myself about to pass out.

"Kurt, I called an ambulance and your dad. You're gonna go to the hospital and he and my mom are gonna meet us there. I'm gonna stay with you, don't worry. You're gonna be alright, everything's gonna be alright.."

He was smiling down at me, tears in his eyes. I had to admit, I did feel safe.

Later in the hospital, once I was alright, Finn was apologizing every thirty seconds or so. I told him that it wasn't his fault, that he shouldn't feel bad over an accident, and when he refused to believe that, I told him that he had made up for it by helping me and staying with me.

He smiled a bit and took my hand, and I smiled back.

And then, just like that time in Lima, I felt like I couldn't breathe. I actually threw up over the edge of the fire escape, but couldn't think about the poor person my half-digested McNuggets might have hit down there. I collapsed back into a sitting position on the stairs -bruising my backside, not that I felt it.

"... Kurt? Are you still there?"

Physically, yes. Otherwise, I wasn't so sure. But I choked out an answer anyway. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm here." I sucked in a breath, and it felt like the first one since the news had hit me. I was still in shock. "I, um... H-How's Carole doing?" I didn't ask how it happened. I wasn't ready to hear that.

"She's broken up over it. Cried herself to sleep."

I hissed quietly. I knew I had to ask. As painful as it was, I had to know: "What... What happened?"

There was silence for a long moment. "He... He was at a party. He hadn't had anything to drink, but others there had. He was there with Puckerman, and was designated driver to get them both home. They were pulling onto the highway when someone else who'd been at the party, driving drunk, rammed them..."

I didn't want to hear any more. I hated interrupting, but "I'm gonna go tell Rachel..."

No response. Maybe he forgot that I couldn't tell he was nodding over the phone. "... Bye, Dad."

I had never seen Rachel Berry cry like she did that night.

Sure, I had seen Rachel cry before, usually over things that even I knew were trivial. But I also knew that Rachel's tears were never contrived: when she was upset, she got really upset, but she never shed a tear unless she really meant it. And I was always there to help her through it, and this time would be no exception.

I couldn't imagine how badly she was hurting. Just recently she confided in me that, even though they hadn't been together in almost two years, she was still in love with him, and always would be. And now, all of a sudden, Finn was gone.

I never made it to bed with Blaine that night. I stayed with her on the couch, hugging her, trying to console my best friend. I put on all her favorite musicals, but I knew she wasn't paying attention. I made her favorite breakfast at three AM, but she didn't touch it. By that time, she seemed to go numb. I guess she'd reached the point where she just couldn't cry, couldn't feel anymore.

The funeral was that Sunday. Blaine and Rachel and I flew into Lima on Saturday morning, and stayed the night at my family's house. Finn's room -what had been his room before graduation- was left untouched. I think that night I heard Rachel in there, crying, but I decided she needed her space. Comforting did nothing to ease her pain, because it couldn't bring Finn back. Nothing would bring him back.

The wake was early in the morning. Rachel slept on my shoulder on the way there, exhausted.

When we got there, Blaine got to socializing, expressing condolences to Finn's family and comforting friends from McKinley.

Rachel spent the entire time at the casket. She wasn't crying; she just stood there, hand resting on the closed casket. She might have had tears in her eyes, if she could muster them after all the crying she'd done over the last few days.

I went over the familiar faces.

Quinn had flown in from Connecticut to come. She had tears in her eyes the whole time, but she seemed more concerned with comforting the Hudson family, mourning the tragic loss with them. She was with Carole a lot of the time, and when I spoke to her briefly, she said quietly, "I owe them both so much." I just nodded and hugged her. We didn't speak the rest of the time.

Artie was nowhere to be found, but Tina told me he was here. I kept an eye out for him the whole time. Tina, on that note, was crying outright, lamenting how unfair the world is.

Santana and Brittany stood in the corner most of the time. It looked like Santana was trying to comfort Brittany, while needing comfort herself. I didn't dare intrude on them.

Mike was teary-eyed but they never fell. He was trying to stay strong. Mercedes was, too, but I think it was more difficult for her to keep a brave face.

Sam looked lost, like it still hadn't sunk in for him. He kind of just sat there for a while, then at one point just got up and walked out. I didn't know if he had come back.

Rory had come all the way from Ireland to be here. Sugar was the one who paid for the flight. They were together for a while then, and Rory was kind of just holding her the whole time. She looked pretty lost, kind of like Sam. Joe was standing with them for a little while. He was praying through most of the wake.

Jake, Marley, Ryder, and Kitty might have been there, but I myself didn't see them.

Puck didn't seem to be there at first either, and no one indicated that he had come. I was worried about him.

I went around to Finn's family members, telling them how sorry I was that they were going through this. Some of the older family members, like grandparents and great uncles and aunts, didn't seem to like the fact that the "queer was here." I took it all with a grain of salt. The Hudson clan was bred in Ohio, and I was lucky enough that most of them were more evolved and open-minded. I just let them know that I was here if they needed anything. They told me to go away, and I didn't bother them further.

Toward the end of the wake, Finn's cousin came up to me, tapping my shoulder. Rebecca was thirteen and Haley's older sister. We were familiar with each other, the family being rather close. I turned and hugged her, and she hugged me back.

"Don't listen to Nanna and the others. He's your brother, you're allowed to miss him." She let go and stared up at me with shining wet eyes. My heart broke for her. "You don't have to be the strong one today."

She headed off to take Haley up to the casket. I stood there, slightly stunned. I knew Rebecca was a smart girl, but that was not something I'd expected from such a young girl.

It took three hours for me to bring myself to walk up to the casket. The lid was closed: I realized painfully that I would never see my brother again. Grief gripped me again, and I felt like I couldn't breathe once more. Finn was gone; I would never see him again, ever.

I needed some air.

I headed outside, breathing becoming easier when I stepped out onto the sidewalk. I tilted my head back, forcing back the tears. I know Rebecca had told me I didn't have to be strong, but at the same time I knew Finn wouldn't want to see me or anyone crying over him.. "Wherever you are.."

"Hummel?"

I jumped, startled at the voice addressing me. I turned to where it had come from, but didn't see anyone. I moved to the corner of the building in the direction from which the voice came and looked around. I wasn't anticipating what I saw.

There were Artie and Puck, both drinking, in wheelchairs.

I don't think it really hit me when I heard about the accident that Puck had been involved, too. I didn't ask how he had been hurt, and I had had no idea at the time that he was left paralyzed from the waist down.

I wish I had gone over to speak to him. I just wasn't ready.

I was asked to say something up at the podium before the burial. For once my eloquence put me into a difficult situation.

I stood up there, sweating a bit, up in front of so many people mourning. I glanced over to the casket. A fairly recent picture of Finn smiling that dorky smile sat atop it.

I took a deep breath. Now or never.

"Death is a curious thing. One moment, someone can be there -smiling, laughing- and then the next, they're gone, wiped off the face of the earth like they had been of no significance. I can tell you now, there is no insignificant person in the world. Everyone's death leaves someone grieving, and whether it's ten or ten thousand mourners, that person meant something and their loss is painful. When... When I was eight, I lost my mother. I learned then that you need to love the ones you have while you have them, because they won't be around forever. I wish I could've remembered that before it was too late."

I sucked in a breath. "Finn and I may have only known each other a few years, and maybe we were only stepbrothers to the outside world, but in our own little world we were as bonded and any blood brothers could be. We always knew we had each other in our corners. He was there for me more than I could've ever asked from anyone, even when I acted like I didn't want it... I never had a brother, never had a true friend, before I had Finn. He brought me out of my shell, and always made sure I knew it was okay to be who I am. I'll always have him in my heart for that. And I don't know where he is now -no one really knows what comes after life- but I do know he's still here, in all our hearts. That will keep him with us forever. So, in a way, we don't really need to miss him, because he's right here. Every smile, every kind word, every lame joke... He's here. And with him still here with us, I can't say goodbye to him, just that I love him." I stepped down and placed my hand on the casket for a moment, sucking in a breath. I really did still feel him here with me.

The Glee kids -all of them, whatever generation- all gathered for a song in his honor. I -all of us- tried not to cry.

I don't think it worked very well.

_From the day we arrive on the planet_  
_And blinking, step into the sun_  
_There's more to be seen than can ever be seen_  
_More to do than can ever be done_

_Some say eat or be eaten_  
_Some say live and let live_  
_But all are agreed as they join the stampede_  
_You should never take more than you give_

_In the circle of life_  
_It's the wheel of fortune_  
_It's the leap of faith_  
_It's the band of hope_  
_Till we find our place_  
_On the path unwinding_  
_In the circle, the circle of life_

_Some of us fall by the wayside_  
_And some of us soar to the stars_  
_And some of us sail through our troubles_  
_And some have to live with the scars_

_There's far too much to take in here_  
_More to find than can ever be found_  
_But the sun rolling high through the sapphire sky_  
_Keeps great and small on the endless round_

_In the circle of life_  
_It's the wheel of fortune_  
_It's the leap of faith_  
_It's the band of hope_  
_Till we find our place_  
_On the path unwinding_  
_In the circle, the circle of life_

_In the circle, the circle of life..._

**Finnegan Christopher Hudson**  
**May 11th, 1994 - July 13th, 2014**  
**Son, Brother, Friend**  
_**"He took the midnight train going anywhere..."**_

* * *

**A/N:** No outwardly abusive Blaine in this chapter, because this chapter is not for the Blaine haters. My prayers go out to the Monteith family and to Lea, and I pray that everyone has the chance to grieve in whatever way they need to. Also for my boyfriend of two weeks last year, who around this time died of leukemia -he was my first relationship, and I was his last. And to anyone reading this, I hope you're okay. If you need to talk to anyone, or just want to vent your hatred for the situation, contact me. I love you guys.

Rest in Peace, Cory, and Rest in Peace, Justin.

_- xx Litsy Kalyptica_


	6. Chapter 5

**A/N:** I hope that last chapter was okay. I really did try to make it as good as possible. Also, sorry this chapter took longer to get up.

* * *

**July 20th, 2014**

We didn't go back to New York right away. None of us had any real priorities back home, and we were in Lima already anyway. Plus, for all three of us, either our families needed us, or we needed them.

Rachel went back to her dads' house, where she knew she would be taken care of and coddled and could cope, and forget that any of this ever happened. I decided to give her the space she needed, but made sure she knew she could call me if she needed me. She thanked me for my concern, but said she needed time to be alone and think about this.

Blaine and I stayed in my old room. The bed was a little small, but Blaine seemed to like it: he said it just meant I had no choice but to let him hold me tight against him at night. I just nodded a sort of agreement; I loved sleeping in Blaine's arms, but when the bed was especially small, he tended to take up most of it. But I was used to it and just tried to sleep as much as I could.

Days after the funeral and I was still feeling pretty emotionally numb. After a sleepless night, I finally got up at six in the morning to go make Blaine and I some breakfast. Dad and Carole were already out at work, both having been needing something to get their minds off the tragedy. I just tried not to think about it, but it wasn't as easy as I might've hoped it would be.

When I pass by his bedroom, how can I not think about how he's not in there sleeping it? How I won't have to go in and tell him to get his ass out of bed, or dodge a pillow aimed at my head, both of us laughing, and know that I'd never hear that laugh again?

And when I go into the kitchen, how can I forget how he had saved my life that day, and I wasn't able to save his? How he'd been there for me, right there with me, but I was hundreds of miles away when he died a horrible painful death?

Hell, I don't even know how I can stay in this house knowing we moved so that there would be enough room for our new combined family to inhabit comfortably?

I would give so much to bring him back for even a replay of our worst moments. He could hate me, but I'd be grateful, because at least he'd be here and everyone could stop hurting.

I was normally so much more skilled in the kitchen, but this just wasn't my morning. I burnt half the waffles and the rest of each was a gooey undercooked mess; I broke the eggs and found there were none left; I even spilled orange juice all over the counter. Sighing, frustrated, I ran my hands over my face. I just felt so tired..

"Kurt?"

I scrambled to get the breakfast plates together to bring everything back up to Blaine. I grabbed the tray and turned around, but Blaine was already downstairs -I didn't notice that until I bumped into him. The breakfast splattered all over me, and the coffee really burned.

Blaine laughed at first, then seeing that I was in pain, he helped me back upstairs to the bedroom. I mentioned the mess on the kitchen floor, but Blaine said not to worry about it.

Blaine took me into the bathroom of what used to be my bedroom, took my shirt off and wet a cloth. He gently pressed the cool, but not cold, cloth to the burning redness on my chest. I caught him staring, and started to feel self-conscious. Blaine laughed; I guess he caught me blushing.  
"Feeling uncomfortable, baby?" he grinned, eyes glinting. My blush brightened. "Don't be. You're..." He looked at my body again, and didn't finish his sentence.

He kept dabbing the burn -periodically running it back under cool water- until the redness had faded. It still stung a bit, but I could manage.  
Blaine stood. He felt so big. "We need to talk."

I took on an expression akin to a deer in headlights (sorry about the cliche). What did that mean? Conversations starting out that way usually led to a break-up -was Blaine gonna break up with me because of my body, which he might have just realized is inadequate? I nodded stiffly, and we moved back into the bedroom. Blaine sat down and motioned for me to sit with him.

I lowered myself carefully onto the mattress. "What... What do we need to talk about...?"

"I want us to move in together."

I didn't really understand at first. "Hun, we already do, we share a bed and everything-"

He sighed. I could tell he was trying to be patient with my lack of understanding. "I mean just the two of us living together, without Rachel. I've been looking into apartments and I found one that, if you and I both go back to working, we could definitely afford. It's just four hundred dollars a month. Sure, it's not in great shape, or in the best area, but it's a start on our future together."

I kind of just sat there for a moment. Sure, our current residence wasn't much better than what Blaine had just described, but rent was about the same, and having split it with Rachel there was less for us to pay individually. And this didn't sound like it was any nearer to NYADA than we were already. "I... I don't know, Blaine..."

He sighed again and moved closer, taking my hands. "I wanna have a life with you, Kurt. I love you, and wanna get a headstart on our future. We can't be stuck with a third wheel in our lives, unless you don't really want us to be together. And if that's the case, I'll let you go right now."

I didn't know at the time that that would be the only out I had ever been offered, and the only chance I had before everything just got worse. I had still believed that Blaine would always love me and take care of me, in his own special way.

I wish I knew.

"I love you, Blaine, and I want what you want." I wouldn't realize until much later how subconscious that was. "I just don't think we should leave Rachel in a time of grieving. She's getting over Finn's death and we can't just leave her there alone..." I sort of wished that Santana was still living with us, but my feelings were valid. I couldn't leave my best friend all alone when she was mourning my brother's death.

Blaine exhaled heavily. "Kurt, I didn't wanna tell you this, but you need to know now..."

My curiosity was picqued. "What? What are you talking about?"

"Rachel... She wants us out."

That hurt to hear, but I didn't understand. "What? Why?"

"She told me after the funeral that it'll hurt to see you every day, being her dead love's brother. She said that until she can move on from Finn entirely, she's not gonna want to be seeing you at all."

That wasn't something I had expected to hear. Rachel and I were best friends; we joked about being nonromantic soulmates. I was her Glinda and she was my Elphaba. We had promised that we'd be best friends until the day we died. I knew she was broken up over losing Finn, but I didn't think she'd be so derationalized that she wouldn't want to ever see her best friend againjust because I was his brother.

But... Blaine wouldn't lie to me... would he?

I was quivering a bit as I heaved a breath, and let it out just as shakily. "I... Okay."

Blaine smiled and ruffled my hair.

We left for New York a few days later, without Rachel. Blaine and I started packing almost as soon as we returned. Rachel and I hadn't spoken, and from what I knew, Blaine hadn't spoken to her again either.

We found an apartment in Queens, which was much further than I would've liked it, but it was cheap. We had the top apartment of a four-story walk up. The stairs were narrow, and the place was small. There was no designated bedroom, just a space for a bed. Blaine tried to convince me it was a studio apartment, but I hardly bought it. Either way, it was home now.

That was the day Blaine found a comfort zone.

* * *

**A/N:** WELP. I had a bit of writer's block on this chapter so I'm sorry if it seems forced. Also, warning for the next chapter: the abuse is gonna become more apparent. There will also be a time skip! Please review and I will had the next chapter up soon! - _xx Litsy Kalyptica_


	7. Chapter 6

**October 13th, 2014**

The waiting room was almost as cold as outside. Or I could add chills to my running list of symptoms.

Blaine was at work,; an off-Broadway stagehand, a job he got paid well enough for. It wouldn't be too bad for me to miss work -at a Starbucks downtown- for a day or two. Hopefully I would be feeling well enough to be back in class on Monday. As for right now, I was in the emergency room at North Shore University Hospital, shivering slightly and coughing every thirty seconds or so. It was a Saturday morning sothe room was crowded.

The more urgent cases go first, so I'd been there for a few hours already. I was feeling sicker by the minute but patience was a virtue.

I watched a mother come in with a young baby. The baby was coughing up a fit and the mother looked distressed. I heard the receptionist tell her someone would be with her in a minute, and the mother nodded. She looked young, and upon a closer look I noticed she was a few months pregnant with another child. I saw her eyes dart about the room, looking for an empty seat. I looked, too, and there were none. I stood and offered her my seat.

She was all doe-eyed as she came over. She gave me a shaky grateful smile. She sat it what had been my seat and tried to get the baby to settle. I stood nearby, keeping my mouth covered with my hand so that when I coughed it wouldn't make the baby sicker.

Once the infant had calmed down, the young woman smiled softly up at me. "Thank you." She shifted the bundle in her arms. "My name's Amy. What's yours?"

I spoke through my hand. "Kurt. Nice to meet you, Amy." I gestured to the baby, who seemed to be asleep now. "He's cute. What's his name?"

She didn't sound too happy to hear that her son was cute. "He doesn't have one yet. I'm actually not planning on keeping him." She must've seen my reaction. "Don't worry, everyone knows it. I'm sixteen, I'm not ready to have a kid. My parents don't like it, but they didn't like that I got pregnant in the first place. I was gonna just drop him off at the firehouse near my family's apartment, but he was sick so I wanted to take him to the doctor first. It's not his fault, after all..."

I didn't question what had happened. She was so young but she had age in her eyes, like someone who had seen too much. I just nodded. I didn't tell her it would be alright, nor did I insist she reconsider giving up her child. It wasn't my place to say anything. "Hope the little guy feels better."

She nodded, smiling a bit. There was a light dusting of pink on her smudged cheeks.

"Amy Kieling?"

She stood. "It was nice talking to you, Kurt. Feel free to contact me if you ever wanna talk." A nurse took the baby, and a visible weight was lifted from her shoulders. She shuffled over to the reception desk and borrowed a pen. She returned and took my free hand, writing down seven digits on my palm. "Really do." Her smile brightened and she followed the nurse back with the baby.

I sat back down in my seat and waited for my name to be called.

"Curtis Hummel?"

I rose to my feet, a little unsteady. A nurse came over and helped me as I almost fell over.

"Maybe we should've gotten you checked out earlier, huh?" She smiled nervously. She was sweet, but clearly tired. Maybe she'd worked all night.  
She helped me back to an examination room. It was white, sterile-looking, with a single generic poster of a kitten hanging from a tree branch on the back wall.

I hated hospitals. I hated the absense of any color and how it felt like death. I had nothing but bad memories of hospitals and it took a lot to get me to go to one, but I was feeling so sick that I just had to get checked out. Blaine and I had no insurance, so we didn't have a physician, and any time one of us needed medical attention -which, thank goodness, was rare enough- we had to come to the ER. It wasn't the best situation, but it worked well enough.

The friendly nurse handed me a tasteless paper smock. "Change into this, keeping your underwear on only. A doctor will be in to see you shortly."  
She left, and I got changed as quickly as I could. I didn't want to see my body; I knew how bad it was.

The doctor came in about twenty minutes later: a handsome, relatively young brunet with a bright smile.

"Hi, I'm Dr. Calvin. You must be Mr. Hummel." He held out his hand, and I shook it. He looked down at the clipboard in his hand, probably the form I filled out when I arrived. "So, you're feeling ill, you're overdue for a physical but you have no insurance..."

I nodded stiffly. "Yes." I was one hundred percent sure he was gonna dismiss me then and there. Maybe even release the hounds on me.

Instead, he just smiled softly. "Well, I really don't understand why a patient is supposed to have insurance for something that doesn't cost the hospital anything, at least when we're not running any tests. So how about I give you a check-up, and we'll get to the bottom of what's ailing you."

I hadn't expected anything like that. I just nodded again. He grinned.

"Alright, let's get started."

We went through the normal physical exam procedure. I caught him staring a few times and i got really self-conscious, wanting to just fold my arms over my body and crawl into a hole.

Once the exam I was used to was over, he asked, "Have you ever had a genital exam?"

I froze up, color draining from my face and rising to it at the same time. "Uh- Uh, no. And, I'm not sure I'm comfortable with starting today." I went into a coughing fit, and he just nodded.

He left the room to allow me to get dressed again, and return once I was done.

"Alright, then. Well..." He looked over some notes he'd taken during the examination. "It looks like it's a case of influenza, but a particularly bad one. Do you have a weak immune system, to your knowledge?"

I nodded shallowly. "Yeah, I think so. My mother did... she died pretty young at thirty-one, of complications brought on by pneumonia. I might have gotten bad immunity from her, if genetics come into play..." I didn't like talking about my mother, I never did. It never got any easier, but I just answered the doctor's question. And, honestly, if I might have inherited it from her, I guess I'd like to know.

He nodded his head sadly. "My condolences. But yes, immunity is in part genetic. You might have gotten it from her. You'll be fine, I just urge you to get examined every few months and any time you're sick. Just to be safe." He looked back at the clipboard. "I also took note of an elevated heart rate, but that could be from your being ill..."

He set the clipboard down, and I stood up, thinking we were done.

He sighed. "Mr. Hummel... I also documented a number of fresh and older bruises." His voice was low now, as if to keep this conversation just between us.

I laughed nervously, my throat suddenly dry. "I fell. I'm a bit of a klutz, so-"

"Kurt..." He was speaking softly, stepping closer. "Is someone hurting you?"

I felt my blood run cold. "Of course not," I coughed into my hand.

He nodded, slowly, eyes looking away. He seemed to have expected that answer. He turned on his heel and headed back to the cabinets, and retrieved a small card from one of the lower drawers. He came back over to me and slipped it into my hand. "I want you to promise me somehing. Promise you'll call that number if you ever need to. Okay?"

I slowly brought the card up to my view. It was a domestic abuse hotline, the number and location of the organization included.

I felt myself start shaking. "I-I promise that I'm fine, Dr. Calvin. Thank you for your concern, but really, I'm fine. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to get home."

I headed out of the room, out of the hospital, and started down the street to get to the bus stop. My eyes were burning, and every inch of me hurt. It had taken so much for me to not take up the offer. I wanted so badly to just let it out, to tell them how the relationship I was in was no longer a happy one. But I couldn't. I knew letting anything slip would just make things worse.

I got on the bus, dropped my fare into the change pot, and let the card drop.

I felt like I was on fire the whole ride. No one sat with me, either, whether it was because I was sick or because I was so on edge.

As a last minute decision, before I got off the bus, I picked it up off the floor, and slipped it into my jacket pocket.

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**A/N:** Updated in less than 24 hours! Woohoo! Please review. I love comments and I reply to non-Guest reviews! I will update when I get to 3 reviews on this chapter! -_ xx Litsy Kalyptica_


	8. Chapter 7

**A/N:** Sooooo sorry this took longer than I'd anticipated. I had a bit of writer's block yesterday so even though I had three reviews, it took me a while to get this done. Anyway, as implied in the last chapter, Blaine's growing more comfortable in hurting Kurt, and here's where he might seem a bit OOC. But as I said, abusers escalate, and what starts as emotional abuse (which is very much in character for Blaine) can quickly become physical and sexual. Blaine's got a better comfort zone now with just the two of them living together, and it's a few months since they moved out on their own. Please take that into consideration before judging Blaine's character from here on out.

Anyway, thank you all for your patience, and on with the story!

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**October 15th, 2014**

Blaine woke up early for classes that Monday.

"Kurt, c'mon, time to get ready." He hit me with a pillow. I wondered sleepily if he'd meant to more gentle with it, sort of like a light tap rather than a slap with the zipper end. I groaned and turned over, not about to get out of bed no matter how much Blaine whacked me with the cheap pillow.  
Blaine had grown impatient and pulled the covers off of me. I moaned and curled up into a ball. Bile was rising in my throat but I forced it back down.

"Kurt, it's Monday, let's get going. Trust me, I don't wanna be up this early either but we're gonna be late." Rather, he was gonna be late. His earliest class was at seven, mine wasn't until eight thirty. But I could hang out at the bakery -yeah, the one I'd quit from earlier that year- while I waited, if I could bring myself to get out of bed.

Blaine huffed, clearly trying to hold his temper. I was grateful for that: I knew I shouldn't be so difficult this early in the morning. "What's wrong, babe?" He sat next to me, stroking my damp hair. I leaned into the gentle touch of his soft hand. I couldn't answer verbally, my throat was too dry and sore. I was sweating all over (I felt nasty for it since I was too sick to go shower more than once a day) and I was feeling too hot and too cold at the same time. My nose was running and my head hurt so badly it stung just to open my eyes. I coughed a few times, and Blaine rubbed my back through the material of my nightshirt.

"Sick.." I managed to choke out, and even just that burned through my mouth and throat all the way into my lungs.

Blaine cooed sympathetically. "Alright, baby. I'll drop by your classes and tell your instructors that you won't be coming in today. You should be better than tomorrow though, right?"

I couldn't give a definite answer. At this rate there was no way I'd be able to move from this bed by tomorrow. I shrugged, my shoulders aching horribly.

Blaine sighed and removed his hand from my back. I probably annoyed him with my uncertainty and lack of verbal response. "Alright then. I'll tell them you'll be back when you can be, and maybe if they have an assignment for you I'll pass it on to you." He stood up, as if to start getting ready, but came back a few minutes later with a glass of water and a thermometer. He set the glass on the table next to the bed.

"Turn over, babe. I can't seem to find the oral thermometer" -I didn't remember ever owning one- "but I did find the rectal one." I could almost feel him grinning to himself.

Groaning, I turned myself over onto my stomach. I buried my heated face into the pillow as Blaine tugged down my pyjama pants.

I squirmed uncomfortably for a few moments before I heard the thermometer beep and it was removed.

Blaine clucked his tongue. "One-o-three-point-six. Alright, looks like you won't be going back to school soon." He patted my ass and got back up without covering it back up. "I have to get ready and get going. I'm going to lunch with some friends and hang out between classes, so I won't be home until later this evening. Expect me back around six."

I nodded as much as I could with my stiff neck.

"If you feel better at any point today, tidy up around here and prepare something for dinner, alright?"

I nodded again, but knew that it wasn't going to happen. I felt bad. Blaine was going to all my professors to tell them I wouldn't be in, and pass along any assignments, and I wouldn't be able to get up to help around the house.

Blaine smiled brightly and kissed my burning forehead. I was drifting off to sleep and the last thing I heard before I slipped into semiconsciousness was "That's my baby. See you later."

The next time I woke up, it was around noon, and I regretted it. My brain was throbbing just having to be a bit more active and my muscles were aching down to the bone without having to be active at all. I had never been sick like this before. Well, maybe once or twice, but not any time recently.

When I was little, my mother would always take off work to stay home with me, even if it was just so much as a bad cold. We'd snuggle on the couch watching Disney movies and if I was feeling well enough we'd bake cookies after a lunch of chicken noodle soup. She'd make my favorite dinner, and read me my favorite bedtime story (which changed every week), and tuck me in and tell me how much she loved her "poor sick little angel."

My mother was highly prone to illness herself, and when she would inevitably end up sick after I was, I'd take care of her like she took care of me.

After she died, when I was still young. my grandmother -her mother- would come over when I was sick, and do all the same things my mom did. But she moved to Arizona when I was thirteen. I've only seen her a handful of times since, but we would still talk on the phone.

When I was a teenager, it didn't take too much to keep me home from school. Sometimes I'd even fake it if I knew that day was going to be particularly bad. Dad wouldn't take off work, but he'd come and check on me, taking his full lunch hour like he never did besides those times. When I got sick at school, he would always come and get me, and stay with me until he had to go back to work.

I was always kind of coddled when I was sick, Not anymore. Sure, Blaine did look out for me, of course, but he never seemed too worried. I guess he knew I was strong, stronger than I really believed. He had confidence that I would be just fine, so he didn't think there was any need for concern. I could understand that.

I would've called someone and asked them to come keep me company, but A) that would mean they would get sick too, and I didn't want that, and B) I didn't really have anyone to call anyway. All my friends -the few I really had- all attended NYADA. They would be in classes right now, and besides, Blaine didn't like people coming over when he wasn't home.

It was selfish, but I was just so sick that I kinda just wanted someone to come and take care of me.

I wasn't hungry. I hadn't eaten today or last night, but I wasn't hungry. Anything that fell into my stomach would just come right back up in an acidic disgusting mess. I was a little thirsty, so I reached over to take the glass of water Blaine had left for me. It was just out of my reach. I couldn't move; I just gave up on the idea.

I'm such a quitter.

"Kurt. Wake up."

The third time I woke up that day it was around six, and it was to the sound of Blaine's voice in my ear. I turned to face him. He was scowling.

I curled a little into myself, coughing pathetically. "W-What is it?"

"Didn't I ask you to clean up and cook something before I got back?" He didn't give me a chance to cough out a response. "I specifically remembering telling you this morning to clean up and make something for dinner. Now thanks to you we live in a pig sty and I'm gonna starve."

I was going to make myself say something, but before I could, he smacked me in the back of the head. My already throbbing brain just kicked it up a notch in pain, and I grabbed my skull as if it would do anything. "B-Blaine..!"

He hit me again, this time striking me across the face. I felt what was either a welt or a bruise starting to form. This wasn't the first time he'd hit me, and it wouldn't be the last.

"Selfish pig."

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**A/N:** Yaaay, I finished! Please review, and once I get three reviews I'll post the next chapter! I love questions and comments so send them in! - _xx Litsy Kalyptica_


	9. Chapter 8

**A/N:** TimF - I'll be sure to pass that on to all the victims of domestic abuse, male and female. I'm sure they'll love the part about Kurt "allowing himself to be beaten and manipulated." I can't even be offended by something so ignorant. Not only is that view sexist, but it also shows how you believe men cannot be the victim. You don't know how domestic abuse works, and I hope you educate yourself like I have.

Anyway, here's chapter 8! Thank you for sticking with it this far and enjoy, unlike TimF ^.^

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**February 14th, 2016**

It was Blaine and I's fifth Valentine's Day together; our fourth as a couple. Blaine promised he had the perfect outing planned for us, and all I had to do was look presentable so he might be proud to be seen with me. I'd been going through my entire wardrobe -my very, very extensive wardrobe- to find something Blaine would like me to wear. His tastes were ever changing, his preferences unpredictable. I thought about maybe a nice sweater that he had liked on me before, and a comfortable pair of white jeans, and the Doc Martens Blaine had bought me for my birthday last year. Blaine never bought me anything unless he'd like me to wear it, but again, his taste changed easily.

I decided this outfit was a good one: one that should please Blaine and be presentable to the other patrons of the restaurant or movie theater we went to. I changed in the only privacy we had in the apartment -the bathroom. I didn't like the possibility that someone could see me any minute.

I accidentally caught myself in the mirror as I changed my shirt. I had at one point been proud and praised for my flawless porcelain skin, something I had taken very good care of. It was always so free of any blemish. It wasn't so much anymore. I ran my hand over a bruise on my collarbone. I brushed it off as a hickey, a love bite from Blaine. My fingertips grazed down to a dark patch on my ribs, one that still stung. 'From the pillow,' I told myself. 'It was just a tap. My skin just bruises easily.'

I always wanted to believe it wasn't as bad as it was. Over the months since the very first bruise -a hand-shaped one on my arm when I tried to get into the shower first- I'd grown used to brushing them off as accidents. I think, for a time, I even believed it.

"Kurt! I'm home!"

I finished buttoning up my shirt and pulled the sweater over my head. I forced a smile for myself in the mirror and kept it plastered on my face.

Once I was sure that I was appropriate to greet Blaine after a long day at work. I kissed his lips sweetly upon seeing him, grinning ear to ear. I was so excited to go out with Blaine that-

"Are you going out in that?" he laughed, half-joking. My smile faltered a bit and I looked my outfit over a few times. I thought I looked good -at least, I had, as now I wasn't so certain. Did I look fat? Ugly?

"What's wrong with it?" I asked quietly, my voice weak as I'd grown accustomed to. I cleard my throat, a little nervous for Blaine's critique.

He laughed again as he took in my flustered self. He stepped closer, touching my face and brushing his thumb over my cheekbone. "I just think you could look a bit better, is all." He grinned as his other hand snaked down my side and the hand cupped my ass, squeezing. I gasped softly and he kissed my open mouth.

"Put on something that will accentuate your ass a little better," he smiled once he pulled away. I blushed and nodded, and headed to the closet. I found a pair of tighter fitting jeans, changed quickly, and returned to my boyfriend.

Blaine smiled -actually smiled- when I came back out and showed him the skinny jeans I had changed into. "That's more like it," he laughed, coming over and wrapping his arms around my waist. I smiled, cheeks red.

We walked to the nearest subway station and took it into Manhattan. I laid my head on Blaine's shoulder, and he wrapped his arm around my back. I smiled. I was actually happy, going out with my boyfriend, when he might actually be proud to be seen with me. I caught a few people on the train staring at us, but that was normal, and I didn't let it bother me. But Blaine pulled me in tighter to whisper into my ear.

"People are staring at you, babe. Try to not be so obvious."

I nodded, a little sad but understanding, and sat up straight.

The rest of the ride wasn't so bad. Blaine would later credit that to his decision to put a little distance between us. And, like always, I would agree.

We got to be a bit closer the rest of the evening. Blaine took me to a nice French restaurant, and I felt underdressed, but I was enjoying myself. I was surprised we were so out in the open: sure, New York was so much more tolerant than Ohio, but this was still so new to us both. There we were, on Valentine's Day, out at a fancy restaurant, on an obvious date. I loved it, and then I knew that Blaine really loved me and was comfortable with the whole world knowing it.

I smiled and reached across the stark white tablecloth to take his hand. He grinned back and squeezed it gently.

When the waiter -he introduced himself as Jean-Pierre- came to take our order, Blaine ordered for both of us. I sat back in my seat, a small, subdued smile tugging at my lips. Blaine always ordered for us both, and I wasn't a picky eater. I loved trying new foods, and I rarely came across one I didn't like. Plus, I was pretty hungry; I hadn't eaten all day.

But when it became obvious Jean-Pierre didn't understand the order, I had to suppress a small laugh as Blaine butchered what French he could get out. Jean-Pierre laughed also, and Blaine sneered at me. "Go ahead. Order." He pointed out both our meals on the menu, and I nodded, still smiling, and ordered in fluent French. Jean-Pierre noted it, and I laughed, thanking him.

When I turned back to Blaine, he was glaring at me. I sunk into my seat, eyes cast down to my lap. After a moment, Blaine grinned, his eyes still dark but his smile light. "Just don't go snapping your fingers at the damn wait staff this time, babe. It's not gonna make your food come any faster." I nodded and sipped at my water.

After dinner, we walked to the park, arm in arm. It was a little chilly out, but overall a warm night for mid-Febryary. There was a light dusting of snow on the grass, petals speckling as they poked their way through. It was dark, and I was getting tired, eyelids drooping. We walked around for a while, enjoying the nature that seemed so rare in the city. It almost reminded me of Lima, but at this time of year, it would be a lot colder and there would be more a blanket of snow than a sheet. Just another reason to prefer New York, I figured.

After a while, we came to rest at a bench. There was no one around, so Blaine pulled me in close, and I laid my head on his shoulder. I almost started to fall asleep when Blaine's voice roused me from it.

"Are you ready?"

I stirred, lifting my head and turning my face slightly toward him. "Ready? For what?"

I felt his cheeks tug back a grin against my forehead. "For the final part of our date."

Confused, I sort of just went along with it as Blaine pulled me to my tired feet and toward the nearby tunnel.

Once we were inside, Blaine gently pushed me against the wall. He firmly attached his lips to my neck before I could even react. "Blaine... Blaine, what are you doing?"

"I want you. And it's Valentine's Day. C'mon, let loose a little." His hands scraped down my sweater, tugging the hem up and untucking my shirt, going for the button and zipper of my jeans.

I tried to push him away -not too hard, just to get him to back off. "Blaine, no-"

"Stop being a prude. You're my boyfriend and I rarely get what I need from you. I think you at least owe me this. I'm just trying to have a good time, and you know how good I'll make you feel."

I didn't say no; I didn't say yes, either. I just stood there, letting Blaine be the puppeteer as he turned me around to face the wall. I bit my lip as Blaine pulled my pants and underwear down at once. He struggled at first, since I was wearing such tight jeans to "better accentuate my ass." I didn't help. I just stood there, chest pressed to shirt pressed to sweater pressed to concrete wall. He kissed down the back of my neck, biting at the top of my spine.

"That's my good baby... Close your eyes and focus on how good it feels, yeah?"

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**A/N:** Two chapters in one day! Woohoo! I hope that wasn't too graphic for anyone, and I'm sorry if it was. That's about as nonexplicit as I could've gotten it while still getting the point across, so I hope I did well with it. Please review and I'll be working on the next chapter! Hopefully it'll be up once I get three reviews! - _xx Litsy Kalyptica_


	10. Chapter 9

**A/N:** Sorry this took so long to update! I was at college orientation Tuesday and Wednesday, and Wednesday night I broke my foot and had to leave orientation early to go to the ER. Then yesterday I had to go to an orthopedic specialist and was told I'd be in a boot cast for 4-6 weeks. I worked all morning on this so I hope it's good!

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**February 15th, 2016**

Blaine left for class early in the morning. He didn't know that I'd be calling in sick today, or how numb I felt; too numb to go to class and pay any attention. I just laid in bed for a while, before contacting my professors, staring at the unpainted ceiling and trying to remember and forget at the same time. I didn't want to think about what had happened in the park last night, but I needed to figure out what exactly had happened.

From what I'd heard from female friends, when young women come to college they are warned about the dangers of men. They're told how men will take advantage of and hurt them. I remembered a similar speech, but us males were told how wrong it was to take advantage of and hurt women. I zoned out at the time, so I wouldn't know if maybe they'd told us that sexual harassment and assault is not something only women are subjected to. Maybe they didn't tell us that. Maybe they thought it could only happen to girls; that if a man was hurt like that -by a man or a woman- then they were still wrong. "Girls don't just come onto men who don't want it," I could hear some stern lecturing voice saying. "If you don't want it, there's something wrong with you. If it's a man, you can fight back. If you don't fight them off, you wanted it."

Granted, I had never actually heard that from any speaker at orientation, but I feel like I've heard it all the time on TV, on the news. You never hear of men getting raped. It's always a woman. You hear about how rapists are rarely brought to justice, but when they do, they always raped a woman. Where are the male on male attackers? Are they supposed to be subjected to the same sentence as someone who attacked a woman, or are we just expected to suck it up and move on? Where's their help, their support, their justice?

I had a friend at the bakery who'd done an two-year sentence for marijuana possession -a little excessive, if you ask me. He had something to say on the matter to anyone who would listen. I did gladly. He was a good kid, my age, a strong build he said he'd gotten behind bars. He was nice to me, something a lot of guys outside a few at school weren't.

"Guys in prison get raped all the time," he told me as we worked a slow shift. He was wiping down a counter, I was refilling the napkin dispensers. "You never hear about it, though. We're just expected to take it; they think we're all scum anyway. But it's not just in jail. I have a buddy who was attacked when he was sixteen, and when he tried to tell the police, they didn't believe him. They never even looked for the girl who did it. Yeah, a girl. Girls assault guys too, but when the dude tries to say anything about it, they're not taken seriously. I helped him through it. He cried a lot -he had nightmares almost every night, and worried that they were right and that it was his fault. I'd tell him that was bullshit. He was attacked and whether or not the police were gonna do anything about it, that didn't change the fact that she had done wrong. Too many people believe men can't be raped, and that women can't be rapists."

But Blaine was a man. More than that, he was my boyfriend of almost five years. I was supposed to keep him sexually satisfied, wasn't I? That's what he'd told me. I guess that part was in the fine print of the metaphorical contract we'd signed when we'd gotten together, when we moved in together, or whenever. Maybe he'd added that in later and I never would've noticed. That was probably my fault, for not acknowledging his needs. With all he'd done for me, I owed him, maybe..?

I thought back to Nicky, my formerly incarcerated friend. Shortly before I quit the job at the bakery, I tentatively asked him what had happened to his friend. He had sighed and told me that he'd been treated like he was a horrible person for "trying to get a sweet girl in trouble." His parents had shunned him, and he'd lost all his friends besides Nicky. All that, combined with the lingering nightmares and the knowledge that his attacker was seen as a hero in all of this, had become too much.

Nicky had invited me to visit his friend's grave with him. I wanted to say yes, but Blaine said no. I told him another time. That other time never came.

I got up to get a drink of water. I grabbed a cup from the counter with shaking hands and filled it up at the sink. I gulped it down and let out a loud breath once I'd finished. I braced myself on the counter and let my head fall. I stared down into the drain in the sink. I wondered how far down it went...

I remembered the card that Dr. Calvin had given me. It remained in the pocket of my jacket for over a year now, and I only really ever thought about it when I was wearing it. It felt much heavier than a little business card would be, and when I had it on me, I was always well aware of it. I felt sort of guilty when I had it with me when Blaine was around. It felt like I was betraying him by just carrying something around that could imply he was abusing me.

But right then, Blaine wasn't home. He'd hurt me on Valentine's Day of all days, but insisted that it was entirely justified and I should stop being a prude. But it had hurt, physically and, to a degree, emotionally. Blaine had hurt me before, but never like that, and never in that spot.

I slowly moved to my closet and took the jacket down. I slipped my hand carefully, as if disabling a bomb, into the right pocket. I pulled it out and looked it over.

It must have been an hour that I debated whether or not to call the number given. I didn't wanna betray Blaine like that, but I needed to know what had happened. I didn't know what I would think if I were to find out that Blaine -the love of my life- really had sexually assaulted me, but ignorance is not bliss, it's torture.

The woman who answered the phone was very nice and understanding. She was patient with my timid voice and listened to whatever I needed to say. After I mentioned about five times how I didn't want to be making this call, I finally mentioned sexual assault. "Okay, sweetheart," -I secretly did appreciate when strangers used pet names with me, when they genuinely meant it, even though Blaine hated it- "I'm gonna redirect you to an organization that deals exclusively with sexual assault and abuse, okay?"

I nodded, as if she could see me, but she must have seen it in her mind's eye since she told me things would be okay, and all of a sudden the phone was ringing on the other side again.

"Hello hun, you've reached Oasis, how can I help you?"

The voice was male and strangely familiar. "H-Hi, I... I don't know if I should really be calling this number. I'm not sure what happened to me, and I don't wanna take time away from people who are certain they were assaulted-"

"No, hun, don't be like that. I'm here to help you -I want to help you. Can you tell me what happened?"

I took a deep breath against the constriction in my chest. "Um... Well, last night, my boyfriend took me out for Valentine's Day. We went to a fancy restaurant and went to the park. He... He said I don't satisfy him often enough, and that I should.. let loose and st-stop being a prude..."

"It's okay," he assured me calmly, soothingly, so I guess he heard me start to cry on the other end. "It's not your fault. You aren't a prude; it's your body, and only you get to decide what to do with it. He assaulted you, and tried to play it off like it was your fault. It is not your fault, it's his fault for hurting you."

I didn't know what to think hearing that what had happened was assault. I could've been either relieved to not have to wonder, or felt ten times worse hearing that Blaine would do something like that to me.

"Is this the first time he's done something like this?" His voice was cool, and it cooled me down, too.

I sucked in a breath and shook my head, again, as if the person on the other end could see it. "No... Um, well, kinda, I guess.. yeah. But... back in Lima, we were at a gay bar one night and after he spent the night dancing with another guy, he got me in the car and tried to make me lose my virginity to him then and there.. Then he told me that he was just trying to be spontaneous and fun, and was unable to see why what he had done had hurt me." That was the first time I'd ever spoken about that. I'd never told anyone -not my family, not my friends, not anybody.

There was a long pause. I thought for a moment that he had hung up, and was about to throw my phone across the room in frustration, until ".. Kurt?"

I froze up. How did he know my name? Did they have caller ID and the numbers to everyone in the city? Wasn't this supposed to be confidential? "Y-Yes..? Who is this?"

"It's Dave. Dave Karofsky."

My eyes went wide, and this time I was lucky my reaction couldn't be seen over the phone. "Dave? W-Wow, you... you work for a sexual assault hotline?"

"Yeah. I'm working on getting a degree in counseling at City College. This is a sort of internship-slash-volunteer project. I... I can't believe it's you... Blaine's hurt you? He's hurting you?"

His voice sounded a bit frantic now, as if he wasn't genuinely concerned before, now I guess he was personally invested.

"I... yeah..." I hated saying this. I'd never told anyone I actually knew.

"Oh god..." He sounded almost devastated now.

I heard the door open and panicked. "I-I'll call back, okay?" I hung up before he could reply.

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**A/N:** Another familiar face! Please review and I'll have the next chapter up soon -I promise! - _xx Litsy Kalyptica_


	11. Chapter 10

**A/N**: I'm sorry it took so long! I've been so busy and have had the worst writer's block :c Fortunately this chapter only took about a half hour so fingers crossed that it's over :') **Please Read and Review!**

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"Kurt, I expect dinner to be ready when I get home." Blaine called from the living room, finishing up in getting ready for his new job. I was in the kitchen, prepping some pork to marinate until that evening. I nodded, and then vocalized my acknowledgement, realizing Blaine couldn't see me. He didn't say anything back: I just heard the door close -hard- as he left.

Once I was certain he was out for the day, I quickly and sloppily put the pork in the pan and stuck it in the fridge to chill for a little while. I wish I could've called back sooner, but a week later I was finally going to contact Dave again. I wish I had gotten his own number, or even an extension to reach him directly. I wasn't sure that I could really handle asking for him specifically at a sexual assault hotline without feeling incredibly awkward and inconvenient.

A woman answered as I was sitting, huddled, on the couch. "Hello?" Her voice was sweet annd calm. I had to figure she was good at her job, and I would've gladly spoken to her last week, but it was nice to have coincidentally caught a familiar person.

"Um, can I speak to Dave Karofsky?" My voice was small. Though we'd made a clean start with each other long ago, I never really thought I'd be turning to him for help. He was more someone I could've gone to for a nice, casual conversation; he had called me his mentor of sorts. That was probably one of my biggest accomplishments: my former tormenter's person to go to for wisdom and support.

Her voice turned slightly. She must've realized I probably wasn't really seeking out immediate support from the hotline, but rather making a personal call. "I'm sorry, he's on the line with another caller. You'll have to try back later."

I thanked her, hung up, and sucked in a deep breath. I would just call again later, yeah. I'll waste the day away, tidy up, make dinner, and spend the night alone with Blaine. I could try again... on Monday. It was the end of the week, and Blaine would be home for the weekend. He liked to keep an eye on me.

The phone rang. Figuring it was Blaine, I didn't answer. He would be pissed off at me for it later, but right now I couldn't bring myself to care. I needed a very long hot bath; we were out of bath soap, but I would make due with the water.

I was in the tub, a half hour, when there was a hard knock on the door. I figured for a moment that Blaine had forgotten his key, and needed me to unlock the door for him. Sighing, I stood, wrapped a towel around my waist, and got out of the tub. I froze up at the sudden cool air and the realization that dinner wasn't ready for him. I couldn't make something up on my way to the door... I would have to face what was coming to me.

I had expected to find Blaine on the other side of the door. Maybe even a delivery man or a neighbor coming to complain to us about some imaginary offense we'd commited. What I definitely had not expected was two men in navy jumpsuits, one carrying a bag of the same color with a white circle and red cross on it.

"Mr. Hummel?" one of them -the taller, slightly more attractive one- inquired, and it was then that I realized I was standing in front of these to moderately attractive men in the doorway to my apartment in nothing but a flimsy towel on my hips.

"U-Uh," I stuttered, taking a half step back. "I'll go put something on, why don't you gentlemen just take a seat?" I turned, knees bent and shoulders hunched as I tightly gripped the towel on my waist, scurrying off to the bedroom.

"Mr. Hummel, are you alright?" the other one called from the sofa. Their voices were rather distinct from each other.

"What? Yes, I'm fine, just... need some clothes..." I blushed, though there was no one to see it.

"You're covered in bruises."

My eyes went wide, and I couldn't think. They had seen the purple and bluish black spots littering my body like I was some kind of off-color leopard. "I fell down the stairs." For the first and only time ever, thank goodness for our walk-up building. "Um, what brings EMS here? I didn't call 911."

"A call was made insisting we come to you. We rushed over when we realized the call was made from a rape counseling hotline."

Dave. Dave had called. But why? What had brought that about?

"I'm alright."

"You don't seem it."

I swallowed hard. "I'm just fine, gentlemen. I appreciate you acting with such haste, but I'm sorry to say it was for nothing. I'm alright." Once I was dressed in a loose tee and a pair of pajama pants, I headed back out to see they were still sitting in the living room. I had to admire their commitment. "Would you like a glass of lemonade?"

I was making dinner when the phone rang for the second time today. I winced as I answered it with messy hands and cradled it between my shoulder and cheek. I hadn't checked the caller ID. "Hello?"

"Kurt?"

My heart stopped for a moment. "Dave.. Dave, hi."

"Hey... Are you at the hospital?"

I put the knife down and held the phone properly, heading out into the living room. "No, no, I'm at home... You called the paramedics. Why?"

"I heard Lisa mention my name on the phone when I was talking with someone at work. Once I was off I asked her what it was about, and she said that someone had called asking for me. I'd been waiting for your call... I knew it was you, no one ever asks for me specifically, I'm still too new."

"And how did you have my number?" I had to imagine calls made to hotlines like this one were kept anonymous for the victim's sake.

"I had to jump through hoops to get it. I have a friend from college who knows how to get numbers from phones that don't keep track. I brought him in after hours and had him hack in to get the number. So when Lisa said that you called, I had to call you. But you didn't answer. Since you called last time about a domestic assault, then called back a week later, and then didn't answer when I called you, I just... I thought you were hurt. That's why I called for emergency responders to go to your apartment."

"I... I... Thank you, Dave. Really."

"No problem... Hey, um... do you maybe wanna go and get coffee sometime?"

"... Yes... Yes, I would like that..."

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**A/N:** Again, R&R!


	12. Chapter 11

**A/N:** Finally, an update! RAAAAAH!

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**March 11th, 2016**

I knew from the moment I left the apartment that I shouldn't be doing this. Blaine was out of town with some friends, and to betray his trust like this… how could I do that to him?

I drummed my fingers against the cup of coffee in my hand. I wondered for a moment if it would be awkward to bring coffee from down the street to a meeting in a coffee shop. I needed a sort of pick-me-up just to get me down here, and I just haven't finished it yet. And I don't think it was the caffeine that was putting me on edge.

The Fix was a new coffee and tea bar a few blocks away from the apartment. It was nice and clean and pretty empty for this hour, but I had heard they had a few hundred patrons coming in on any given day. The location had been Dave's idea, and honestly, even now I was very hesitant about showing up.

The only reasoning I could make sense of this with was that I really, really needed someone to talk to. I hadn't spoken to Rachel since we stopped living together, and she seemed to avoid me at school. Maybe I shouldn't have left right after Finn died… I was wrong to think she wouldn't need a shoulder to cry on. Now she's there, all alone. No wonder she hates me.

I didn't really talk to anyone any more. Blaine kept me pretty busy: he deserved a clean house and a good meal when he came home after working. But I hadn't talked to Dad or Carole or any of my old friends in what seemed like forever. But they never seemed to reach out, either, so I guess they just didn't want to talk to me.

Blaine loved me; that was certain, but after what I'd heard from that doctor and from the people at the hotlines, he was going about it the wrong way. I really needed to get this straightened out. I felt sort of bad about it, since Dave probably thought this would just be an opportunity for the two of us to catch up. And I wanted it to be, but it had to be serious, too. I needed open, honest answers.

At first I hadn't believed everyone when they said that Blaine was in the wrong. Blaine and I used to watch Lifetime movies together, back when we were still at McKinley, and in almost every one a woman was being abused by her boyfriend or husband. Blaine would always snort at it and go on about the feminazi controlled media and how so many women were on a vendetta against all malekind. I didn't believe it, at the time, but now it almost seemed to be true. Were these people really just trying to turn me against my boyfriend?

It was with that sour attitude that I entered the shop. Dave was already there, waiting for me at a table near the back –"so that if Blaine walked by, he wouldn't see us." That made me a little angry.

I sat across from him at the small table, arms crossed on the top, staring down into my cup of what was quite honestly really good coffee.

"So, how've you been?" he asked. "What have you been up to?"

I forced a smile. "I'm a part-time student at NYADA now. I'm only taking two classes, so I don't qualify as full-time. I'm really busy with cooking and cleaning and everything. I, um… I try to get to an audition every once in a while, but… yeah, those never really work out. I've kinda, y'know… stopped…" I stared deep into my cup.

"I'm sorry to hear that, Kurt. I… know how much Broadway is your dream."

I shrugged sullenly. "It'll happen one day, but that day just hasn't come yet. I'm just, like… taking a break. I won't be giving up."

"Glad to hear it."

"So you're getting a degree in counseling?"

He laughed softly. "Yeah. After being a bully so long and realizing how horrible I was, I kinda want to be a school social worker. I wanna be an anti-bullying advocate."

I smiled, proud of him. "Quite a turnaround," I noted. I remembered something and laughed. "I thought you wanted to be a sports agent."

He laughed too. "That was a dream of mine. Dreams change, though."

I went quiet, eyes cast down to my lap.

After a few sips of the coffee and a long moment of silence, Dave finally said something. "Are you alright?"

"Peachy," I answered, my voice strangely cold.

"No, really; you can talk to me, Kurt. I'm here to listen."

I saw him about to reach across the table to take my hand, and even though he stopped himself before he did, that really set me off.

"Blaine isn't hurting me. He's the best boyfriend I could ask for and you need to stop trying to convince me otherwise." It sounded so rehearsed, so unlike me, but it was what I truly believed.

He seemed to be a little taken aback. "Kurt…" He cleared his throat. I sat, watching, unwavering. "I'm not going to try to convince you that Blaine is no good. I believe that you believe he's the best guy ever-"

"What do you mean you believe that I believe it?" My voice was getting a bit too loud, but there wasn't really anyone around to hear me. "It's the truth!"

He sighed, as if he thought I wouldn't notice it. "I know you love him, Kurt." He got really quiet, as if the conversation must be secret. "But you're covered in bruises. He violated you on Valentine's Day, you told me so yourself-"

"I lied."

He didn't believe me. I wouldn't either. "Kurt."

"No, stop. You need to stop, everyone needs to stop." I was tearing up, and had to get out of there before they started flowing. I stood and grabbed my jacket off the back of the chair. "Blaine's the best thing that has ever happened to me. He saved me, from YOU. YOU were the one that hurt me; he rescued me when I was at the darkest point in my life. I thought I was going to die alone and hated and broken and he got me out of that. He loves me, and I love him. You people are crazy to think he'd ever hurt me. He lifts me up, and keeps me grounded when I need it. I… I'm sorry I ever wasted your time, I really am, but I'm not gonna let you or anyone try to make me believe he's poison."

I left before he could say anything back. I heard him calling out for me and I stormed out of there with wet eyes, wet cheeks.

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**A/N:** Sorry it's a little short, I wrote it real quick so I can write other stuff today too! Review and the next chapter should be up shortly! - _xx Litsy Kalyptica_


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